


Nothing More Conrete

by n_liketheletter



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandoned Exploration, M/M, Sam and Colby - Freeform, The Roommates, YouTube, a very small bit of romance, it's hinted - Freeform, there's a lot of blood which is why it's Teen and Up, xplr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 19:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_liketheletter/pseuds/n_liketheletter
Summary: They were warned that a crazy homeless man lived there, some druggie who supposedly came at visitors with an axe, but they’d heard that tall tale a while ago. In the present time, however, it was appearing to be true.





	Nothing More Conrete

**Author's Note:**

> A giant shout-out to Allison Thomey for giving me this idea in the first place, and for joining me in rarepair hell.

“Yo, Sam, did you hear that?”

 

Colby stood rigid, listening intently for that weird sound he’d just heard. Sam, at the moment hanging off of a wall he’d just scaled, was frozen. He looked at Colby, questioning: _What the fuck was that?!_ It sounded like a pair of feet shuffling in the hallway next to Sam, on his left. Colby instinctively turned off his flashlight.

 

They had gone to the famous haunted asylum that went viral after Joe Weller captured major poltergeist activity on camera, only to find it completely destroyed. Discouraged, they snooped around to find that the surrounding buildings had also met the same fate, and left. On the ride back to their hotel via subway, some nice subscribers had recommended another building close by that was extremely easy to get into and had zero security. They were warned that a crazy homeless man lived there, some druggie who supposedly came at visitors with an axe, but they’d heard that tall tale a while ago. In the present time, however, it was appearing to be true.

 

The shuffling sounded closer, and Sam quietly hopped off the wall. He peered down the hall, whipped around and mouthed ‘go.’ Colby didn’t need to be told twice. Tucking the camera under his arm, he sprinited down hallways and stairs, hearing a roar behind him and an “oh _shit_ ” from Sam. Leaping down the last four of the flight, he ran like hell towards the exit. Sam was right behind him, yelling about getting out, and the window they’d crawled through was right there. Another couple feet, and then he was pushing open a makeshift hatch that upon second glance definitely looked way too convenient, diving out headfirst into some grass, and making space for Sam…, who wasn’t there. Colby did not think he was that fast, but evidently he’d left Sam in the dust. As much as he didn’t want to risk it he had to go back in before something terrible happened to his best frie--

 

There was a crash, and a terrible scream, and Colby had about 15 seconds to hide in the bushes before said homeless person raced through the same window. In the instant they passed by, Colby thought he saw the glint of a pocket knife and a smear of red…

 

Oh my god, he thought. _Oh my god._ “Oh, my god…”

 

This was absolutely not happening. He cautiously peeled his way out of the branches, waiting for his friend to come bounding out with a smile and a “gotcha!” Sam didn’t show. Colby paced for a bit, decided the guy was completely gone, and nervously opened the hatch. He shone a flashlight around, found nothing, and turned the camera off. Placing it in his bag with the wood leaning against his back, he called out Sam’s name. Praying to god upon man, Colby willed an answer. Nothing. _Fuck_ , he was gonna have to go back in there, wasn’t he? If this was a prank, Colby was going to implode on the spot.

 

“Sam? Buddy, where are you?” Colby whisper-yelled across empty space as he stepped in once again. “Come, on, man, if this is a prank…”

 

“Colby! Colby I’m-I’m over here, he…, he got m--ah!”

 

“Sam!” Thank god. Following his friend’s voice, Colby rounded the corner and - wished he couldn’t see. Sam was clutching his side, huddled against the wall with a wild look in his eyes, probably scared out of his mind, and Colby knew exactly why. There was red everywhere. Spilling out between Sam’s fingers, splattered against the wall, welling up on the floor….

Everywhere Colby looked was dark, terrifying _red_. He stopped short, unable to tear his eyes away. He looked at Sam, and he knew he would never be able to do so again without seeing all the blood pouring out of his counterpart’s side. What seemed like hours was scrunched into a couple of seconds, and Sam tried to speak through slight yelps of pain.

 

“I-Colby, in the bag, there…, there’s bandages - yeah, in the front pockET! AH!”

 

The brunette rustled through fabric, hurriedly searching for the white cotton that he’d teased Sam about never using. How wrong was he. Shaking slightly, he managed to tear one out and rushed to Sam’s side.

 

There was all that blood again, up close and personal and scary, and even the white patch Sam took into his own hands couldn’t contain it all. Glancing up at the new owner of such a flesh wound, Colby found Sam gritting his teeth, barely hanging on to consciousness as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He was definitely not placing enough pressure onto such a waterfall, which Colby thought was bad, because you’re supposed to put a lot on even tiny scrapes. It occurred to him that Sam was sapping his own strength, and there was nothing scarier than him passing out. Colby took another bandage out and attempted to swap it out and  shush a protesting Sam at the same time.

 

“Colby, I can-I can do that mysel..., mmmmm…,” he hissed, barely audible. Colby was scared. He was _really_ scared.

 

“You can not, shut up and let me help you.” Gingerly, Colby separated Sam’s hand with his side and applied slightly more pressure than he thought was required. His partner whined slightly, grabbing Colby’s other hand with his and resting his head on Colby’s shoulder.

 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Colby stated, more to himself than anyone. “You’re gonna be okay.” Sam smiled up at him slightly and promptly passed out.

 

Well, fuck. What was Colby supposed to do now? He definitely couldn’t carry Sam through the door, and he didn’t even know where the nearest hospital would be. A wave of nausea washed over him, making it even harder to think. What would the locals say, anyway, if he were to prance out into their neighborhood with blood-soaked jeans and a very fragile-looking human being in his arms? They’d probably call the police…, wait. Colby wanted to slap himself in the face for missing that obvious option, but instead he scrambled for his phone. Sam was not dying on his watch, no way in hell.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Sam woke up in white sheets and fluorescent lights, he was very confused. There, next to him on the wall, was a ticking heart monitor. He was surrounded by mint-green curtains, and when he tried to move his side felt like it was tearing apart. _Well, that’s because it is, dumbass,_ said his brain, and he was overflowed with memories of the last time he was actively conscious. He had gotten stabbed by a random homeless guy in an abandoned church, and Colby had been there, and there was a lot of blood, and then he had fainted in his best friend’s arms. After that, there was nothing (as expected) until he woke up here. Here, he assumed, was a hospital. He stared at his heart monitor again, transfixed for a minute. His throat was dry. There was always a water glass on a table in all those movies, but he couldn’t find one to his right. Slowly turning his head to the left (he had a massive headache that he figured was probably due to blood loss), he found not a table with something to drink but a familiar figure slumped over his bed, holding his hand. Colby looked dead asleep, his ass on the very edge of the chair he perched on, hair disheveled and drooling slightly. It looked like you could very easily sneak up behind him and pull his chair right out from under him. Jake would absolutely do that. Sam giggled slightly at the thought.

For such a deep sleeper, Colby surprisingly sprung up. He looked around, dazed for a bit, and pulled a cartoon-like double take on Sam. Slowly, he blinked, looking as though he couldn’t quite believe the sight of the man in a hospital bed blinking back at him.

 

“Nice drool, bedhead,” teased Sam, followed by another short giggle as Colby shot up and toppled his chair. He wasn’t really sitting on it anyway.

 

“Sam! You’re awake, and.., and alive, and…, I thought you were gonna die!” he said, all in a rush as he threw Sam into a tight hug.

 

“Well, I didn’t,” Sam replied, sluggishly trying to make his arms move through the pains in his side. Colby continued to hold him for maybe a bit longer than necessary, but Sam didn’t mind. It was nice to be in his friend’s embrace - he had always found it comfortable, even when they had only just started hanging out. It was still warm (a nice relief from the frigid air conditioning), and firm but not tight. Colby still smelled nice, which was probably weird to admit, but honestly it wasn’t the strangest thing Sam had recognized in his best friend. Besides, people were allowed to smell nice. It wasn’t that weird.

 

Eventually, Colby pulled back with a large smile gracing his face. His eyes were red, Sam noticed. Had he been crying? Yikes, now Sam felt bad.

 

“Sorry I made you worry so much,” he said sheepishly. He was met with a “I’m always worried about something,” and then there fell a nice but still slightly awkward silence. The kind that’s heavy, but light, and you feel like you should say something, but you don’t really want to break it. Colby grabbed his chair, once again resuming his spot next to the bed, and he gazed at Sam distractedly. Sam gazed back. And there they sat for the rest of the night, two fools staring at each other for no apparent reason, only interrupted by the occasional nurse passing by. There was nothing else to really say, not a great deal to do besides sleep and take sips of water, and greet the visitors who came and went.

 

Sam sped through a recovery, faster than the doctors had anticipated, but they always said that. Even still, it was a surprisingly short amount of time before Sam was out. On the outside, he simply told people he was a fast healer. Personally, however, he knew it was because every time he opened his eyes, there was Colby in the chair next to him. Sometimes with a small smile, sometimes with McDonalds he snuck in and that mischievous grin, sometimes slouched on top of Sam’s stomach snoring away. Whatever happened, whenever he needed it, Colby would be there.

 

There was nothing more concrete than that.


End file.
